Lie to Me
by Solivagant
Summary: Gillian needs to believe him, but she just can't find it in her. Very OOC Gillian.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Lie to Me or any of the characters, places, themes, etc. I also don't own the song "Lie" by David Cook. No copyright infringement intended.**

**Part of the 1000 Themes Challenge Number 779**

**A/N: This little one shot was inspired by the song "Lie." Even though it is almost the exact opposite of the idea of Lie to Me, I was thinking about the show (and Callian) while listening to it. I got this idea from the lyrics. It's a bit of a sad little fic, but I might do a sequel or turn it into a multichapter if anyone actually likes it... And I'm not certain that anyone will cause I don't love it myself.**

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**Lie to Me**

"So lie to me tell me that it's gonna be alright. So lie to me tell me that we'll make it through the night."

~ "Lie" by David Cook ~

She had told herself that she would tell him everything. She was going to tell him about Alec cheating on her. She was going to tell Cal how she had really come to feel about him after all the years they had spent together. But all those plans evaporated the second she opened his office door and saw him. And saw _them_.

It was Cal and Zoe, locked in a passionate kiss. They broke apart, Cal with an expression of surprise and shame. And Zoe? She wore a smug smile, seeming pleased that Gillian had chosen that moment to burst in. Which she probably was, considering her intense dislike for Gillian.

"Gill-" Cal started.

"Save it, Cal," Gillian said through the tears that pooled in her eyes. So Cal wouldn't see as a few spilled over, she turned away from him and walked with carefully measured steps down the hall.

"Foster!" he called after her.

Gillian picked up her pace, breaking into a light jog. She heard hurried footsteps following her.

"Gill," Cal said, grabbing her shoulder and spinning her around. "Gillian, I'm sorry. You weren't supposed to-"

"To see that?" Gillian asked, angrily cutting him off. "You didn't want me t-to see how much you love _her_?"

"That's not what happened, love," Cal said softly. "Zoe-"

"Cal, don't lie for her. Look, I really don't care."

Cal paused. After a few seconds, he said, "Of course you do."

"Hell Cal…" Gillian trailed off, shaking her head slowly. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "We both know that you love Zoe."

"No, I don't."

"Don't even bother denying it."

"Dammit Gillian, why do you believe me when I lie, and not when I tell the truth?"

"Then lie to me now," Gillian said. "Lie to me and tell me that… that everything will be alright. Tell me that you love me. Just _lie_."

"Gillian," Cal said. He cupped her face in his hand, reading every flicker of emotion that crossed it. "Gillian, I do love you. I would only be lying if I told you I didn't. Zoe was just… She came on to me, not the other way around. Gillian, look at me." Obediently, she met his gaze. "Do you believe me?" Cal asked.

For a moment Gillian wanted to say no, to childishly stick to her original argument. But she just whispered, "I guess I do."

"You guess?"

"I believe you, Cal." There was doubt on her face, though. She didn't really completely believe him. That might have been a good thing, though. Anyone that wholly trusted Cal Lightman was a fool.

So he just said, "Good." Cal smiled ever so slightly and kissed her lightly on the lips.

Gillian blushed and pulled away from him. She dropped her eyes, suddenly very interested in the tile pattern.

"Zoe's probably waiting for you," she mumbled.

"She can wait."

"Cal?" Gillian asked quietly.

"Yeah?"

"You never told me that it would be alright."

"You know that I can't lie to you," Cal said gently.

"I need you to," Gillian pleaded. "Lie to me, Cal. Just this once."

"Why?"

"I need to hear you say it. It's all I ask. Then you can go back to Zoe or whatever you-"

"Why won't you get it through your head that I do not like Zoe?"

Gillian sighed. "Please?" She thought that maybe if Cal told her everything would be alright that she would believe it. Hope was the one thing she needed more than ever now that Alec was gone, and she was alone. Gillian always believed Cal; it was the one thing she was counting on now.

Cal drew her up against him. "Gill, it's going to be alright," he whispered in her ear. "Don't worry." And he meant it. He knew that everything was going to be alright because he had Gillian, and she had him.

Gillian closed her eyes, letting herself believe what she thought to be a lie. A lie, that's all it was to her. A lie, like everything –and everyone – else in her life. If only Alec and Zoe were gone. Then maybe the lie would miraculously turn true. If only they were gone, if only Cal was hers… If only Gillian had a single ounce of hope left in her being. But she didn't. Not enough to fight the dark depression that was slowly overcoming her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Lie to Me or any of the characters, places, themes, etc. I also do not own the song "Haunted." No copyright infringement intended.**

**A/N: This is the fic that I go to when I'm not feeling the best. So expect this to be… well, not happy, but not exactly depressing. At least, not by my standards. Anyway, if you want fluffy happy Callian, I'm telling you to not read it.**

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**Lie to Me: Chapter 2**

"Where are you? I need you. Don't leave me here on my own. Speak to me, be with me. I can't survive unless I know you're with me."

"Haunted" by Kelly Clarkson.

He watched her downward spiral. And he couldn't help but think it was partially his fault. Sure, her ex husband was one cause, but him and his ex was probably another. It was his fault, and there wasn't much he could do about it.

It started with the drinks. She would go out to some bar late at night and drink as much as she could keep down. Then, she'd go home, sometimes with a man that she would never see again. Always she would come in to work the next day with a killer hangover. But by the end of the day, the alcohol would be out of her system. More would be needed so that she wouldn't have to surface and face reality. So as soon as she got out of work, another bar it was. The same routine kept repeating, over and over. That may have been bad, but it was only the beginning.

Maybe three weeks after her first hangover day, he caught her. He had been passing by her office and decided to pop in and see how bad the day's hangover was. He had opened the door without knocking, as was his style, and he had been stunned into silence. There she was, with a needle in her arm. Her expression was that of someone who had given up the fight long ago.

Of course he had yelled at her, telling her how stupid she was being. But had she listened? No. Of course not. She fought back, saying that the drugs helped, that they helped erase the pain. And the next day, he found her with another needle in her arm.

But even the drugs weren't enough for her.

A few weeks later, he saw her wrists. They had cuts all across them, in various stages of healing. The oldest scars were fading, the newest still dripped blood when he grabbed her wrists in anger. How long had the cutting been going on? Her skin was so badly cut and scraped that in some places it barely looked human anymore.

Again he yelled at her. He begged her to stop, to be herself again. Again, she didn't listen. He tried bringing her to a therapist, a psychologist, Alcoholics Anonymous, everything he could think of. Everything but the psychiatric clinic, the psycho hospital. He couldn't bear to think that his beloved depressed alcoholic was psychotic. So he just tried to keep a closer eye on her. Months passed. None of his possible solutions helped the slightest bit.

The depression deepened.

Her expression became more and more vacant. She was eventually fired from her job. And yet she couldn't have cared less.

One time, he had gone to her house to check up on her. He had found her with her eyes closed, mumbling unintelligibly to herself. In her hand was a gun, tightly gripped but not pointed at her temple. It was lucky that he had gotten there when he did. Had he decided to walk a little slower, to knock, to check on his daughter, it might have been too late.

Luck. That was all it was. Luck had brought him to her house at the right moment. But he couldn't rely on luck forever. He had no choice. She needed professional help, the kind that he hadn't even considered before. So he took her to a hospital, where she was admitted. She didn't complain, she just let herself be led in.

Cal could only pray that someone would be able to help his Gillian.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own Lie to Me or any of the characters, places, themes, etc. I also do not own the song "Into the Ocean." I am, however, the proud owner of the first season DVD!**

**A/N: I'm so happy that I haven't given up on this yet! Side note: Endurance is a lost cause. Also, I know I've said it before, but this is, in a way, meant to be OOC on Gillian's part.**

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**Lie to Me: Chapter 3**

"I want to swim away but don't know how. Sometimes it feels just like I'm fallin' in the ocean. Let the waves up take me down. Let the hurrican set in motion, yeah. Let the rain of what I feel right now come down."

"Into the Ocean" by Blue October

Gillian's days in the clinic passed slowly, like a dream. She didn't listen when people tried to reason with her, or tried to get her to talk about herself. She just did what they said. By her reasoning, if she obeyed them like a docile little puppy, she would get out sooner. And to some extent, it worked. They would be about ready to let her go, but then she would unconsciously pick up a pair of scissors, a butter knife, a sharp pencil – anything that she might be able to use to harm herself – and rest it on her wrist, her palm… her temple. And as long as Gillian was dangerous to herself, they could - they would - keep her.

Eventually, Gillian trained herself not to pick up these sharp items. She trained herself not to glance up every time a worker said he was going out for a beer. She trained herself to ignore the nurses walking by her with drug filled syringes. She trained herself to pretend, to _lie._

Then, a month and a half after her admission, she got to okay to leave. Or rather, she got the okay and didn't blow it this time. And they gave Gillian a choice. She could stay if she wanted for further help, or since they though she was no longer a danger to herself, she could go home. And so, she left. Her time in the clinic was over, hopefully for good.

Gillian drove herself home so that she wouldn't have to face anyone until she was ready. Cal, Torres, Eli... Alec... She wouldn't be able to look any of them in the eye and tell them she was okay, especially since she knew that they all cared about her, even Alec.

When she got home, her apartment – the one she had bought shortly after her divorce from Alec – was dusty. Of course it was. No one had been inside it for well over a month.

The second Gillian got inside, she dropped her bags and went to the kitchen. She crossed her arms and silently studied her 'cutting knife.' It was the same as the rest of the set that hung around it, bloodstained blade aside.

Gillian reached out and grasped the familiar handle, pulling the knife off the wall. Softly, she blew the thin layer of dust off. The blade was just as sharp as when she had left. Gillian laid itagainst her wrist. The cool metal sent goose bumps racing up her arm. She clenched her hand into a fist, making the veins bulge. They were easier to cut that way.

But… she didn't want to.

Gillian closed her eyes. She didn't want to cut herself.

She looked at the knife. And laid it on the granite countertop. For some reason, the knife no longer held the escape she needed. What did she want, then?

Gillian licked her lips and picked her bags up from where she had dropped them. She carried them to her bedroom and pushed open the plain white door. Her eyes swept across the room. Almost everything was the same. Almost being the key word.

A gun lay in the center of her bed. Like the rest of the apartment, it had gathered a thin dust layer. But the gun wasn't hers. Cal had taken the one she had almost shot herself with a couple monthes before. It wasn't hers, but that didn't mean she couldn't use it, right? It was right there, beckoning to her, calling to her…

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Cal hung up the phone.

"Shit."

Five minutes later he was in his car, racing towards Gillian's apartment. He drove as fast as he could, but he wasn't sure if it was fast enough.

He had called the clinic, like he did every day when he was done for the day, only to be told that a Miss Gillian Foster had been released. Cal recalled telling the clinic to tell him the second they let her go, no matter what time, what day, or how busy they were. He hadn't gotten that call. And now over an hour had passed, plenty of time for Gillian to get home and pick up the gun he had put in her apartment.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own Lie to Me or any of the characters, places, themes, etc. I also do not own the song "The Reason." No copyright infringement intended.**

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**Lie to Me: Chapter 4**

"I've found a reason for me to change who I used to be, a reason to start over new. And the reason is you."

"The Reason" by Hoobastank

Cal slipped the key in the lock and turned it. Hesitantly, he opened the door. The apartment was dead silent. Cal bit his lip. Maybe it was already over, and he was too late.

He made his way over to Gillian's bedroom. The door was closed.

If Gillian had shot herself, did he really want to open the door and see her? But he had to know… had to be sure. Maybe she hadn't put the gun to her head. Maybe she threw it out the window and was waiting for him with a smile on her face. Maybe. Maybe not.

Cal laid a hand on the gleaming silver door knob. Taking a deep breath, he twisted it and pushed the door wide open.

"Gillian?"

She was sitting on the edge of her bed, clutching the gun to her chest. Silent tears streamed down her cheeks, falling into her lap.

"Gillian," Cal said again. He sat on the bed beside her, laying a hand on top of hers. He folded his fingers over the gun. "Gillian, what are you thinking?"

"I…" she shook her head slowly, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

Cal gently took the gun from her, setting it on the nightstand. "Gillian." She met his eyes. "Please love, what is it?"

"I-I don't know. I didn't… I didn't want to shoot… to… I didn't want to."

Cal smiled slightly, letting the relief show on his face. "You're alright."

"I'm alright," Gillian repeated in wonder. She smiled through her tears. "I'm alright."

Cal wasn't sure if it was the clinic that had changed her, or if she had wanted to get better. It really didn't matter though, did it? Gillian was herself again.

"Welcome back, love."

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Cal paused, leaning against his car. He looked back at Gillian's apartment building.

Yes, he had said that Gillian was alright, and she was. At the moment, anyway. But people could worse again, right? Relapse – that's what it was called.

So, he was right back where he started. All he could do was watch and hope for the best.

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When Cal drove out of sight, Gillian lay down on her bed and stared up at the plain white ceiling, letting her thoughts wander.

Something about Cal's parting smile had been off, like maybe he was lying. Speaking of liars, Gillian was up at work again in a little over a week. A week… It seemed so soon. No, nothing was ever too soon. Her divorce from Alec wasn't. If anything, it wasn't fast enough. Alec… Gillian idly wondered how he was holding up. He was probably better than she was. He probably didn't even give a damn that she had almost killed herself over him. Well, partly over him. The other part…

Gillian smiled closing her eyes. She rolled onto her side, kicking off her shoes. The other part was Cal. Cal. She had almost killed herself over him, but he was also the only reason she had to keep living.

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**A/N: I'm thinking there's only going to be one last chapter. Or I might decide to go Callian and add a few more, but probably not. Just... heads up, I guess. **

**~Cookie**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own Lie to Me or any of the characters, places, themes, etc. I also don't own the song "Broken." No copyright infringement intended.**

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**Lie to Me: Chapter 5**

"In this pain, there is healing. In your name, I find meaning, so I'm holding on."

"Broken" by Lifehouse

Cal took one step into Gillian's office and stopped in his tracks.

Her office door had been cracked and low music was floating into the hall, so naturally he had pushed the door open and let himself in. She hadn't heard him enter, and she still didn't realize that someone else was in the room with her.

Cal took a deep, silent breath and backed out of the office, just poking his head through the doorway so that he could see without being seen. Once again, he had walked in on Gillian holding a needle to her arm. Her fist was tightly clenched around the syringe, and she was slightly hunched over it. Still, he could see that the drugs that filled the syringe were enough to kill her, if only just. But as Cal watched, she lowered the syringe and ran her thumb up and down the cold metal needle.

The fact that Gillian was once again considering suicide scared Cal more that anything had since his mother's death. He wasn't ready to lose his partner and best friend to death's unforgiving clutches.

When he had first met her all those years ago, he had been doubtful of her optimism and painfully incorrect view of the world. But then, once Cal had gotten to know Gillian, he had realized that sometimes she really was incredibly happy, but that oftentimes her perkiness was just a mask to hide her pain and loss. And her solution to her personal pain was to try and make sure that no one else ever had to feel anything like it. That was the main, but unspoken, reason why she had gone into crime solving.

Cal needed someone like her around. Gillian was someone that he could talk to, someone who could understand him, someone who he could trust with his life.

And as he stared at her, as he watched her, he knew that this choice was hers, and hers alone. It wasn't his place to go in and try and talk her out of it. But that didn't mean that he didn't care about Gillian, because he did, more than anything. It took all his self control to stay where he was and not knock the syringe out of his partner's hand.

Gillian again raised the needle. She was torn between the past and the future. Would using the drugs and killing herself really solve everything? Would anyone even care if she was out of the picture?

This time, when Gillian decided against suicide, she set the syringe on her desk when she lowered it. She picked something else up, though. It was a framed picture. Gillian turned it over in her hands, smiling at whatever memory it captured.

Cal shifted a bit in the doorway to catch a glimpse of the photo. If it was of Alec, and that smile had been one of pain and regret, the needle would go into her arm. And he wouldn't be able to stop her.

But it wasn't of Alec. The picture was of him. Cal. And her.

The two of them were working a case, one involving a building collapse, a lying mayor, and a bribe. In the picture, Cal and Gillian stood shoulder to shoulder, their heads tilted towards each other. They were looking at something, studying it curiously.

Cal frowned. He remembered that case, but who had taken that picture? And how did Gillian get her hands on it?

Mentally, Cal shrugged. It didn't really matter. What did was that Gillian's small smile was one of happiness and contentment.

She set the picture back down and picked up the syringe, bracing the tip of the needle against the dark wood on the desk. With a tiny wrist flick, the needle snapped in half. Gillian's satisfied smile widened as she dropped the syringe in the trash can.

Hiding his own thankful grin, Cal withdrew from the scene. She was fully and completely cured. Cal made a promise to himself that he would never let his partner know that he had witnessed her private, promising little miracle.

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A/N: Well I think that's the end, think being the key word. Okay so for this chapter, I just couldn't resist sticking that picture in cause I love it so much:) I don't remember the name of the episode, though. And also, I know next to nothing about drugs, which is probably a good thing, but please forgive me for anything that's wrong or inaccurate. And thanks to you guys that have read and reviewed sometime during this short little story=)

~Cookie


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